


Playing Pretend

by saltandlimes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Rare Pairings, ugh the sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:24:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Finn left the First Order, he left more than the only life he's ever known. He left someone, someone he realizes was more important to him than he ever imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> This is all [jonstarks's](http://jonstarks.tumblr.com/) fault. <3

Three hours, five minutes, twenty three seconds. That’s exactly how long it’s been since Ren muttered those words on the bridge. And Hux paces his ready room, up and down in long unbroken strides. 

_The one from the village. FN-2187._

Those words that Hux will never be able to unhear, that he will never forget, even if he lives to be as old as Snoke, as old as the rain on Arkanis, that never ending pitter-patter that haunts his dreams. 

_“Why do you want to talk to me, though? You could get anyone to listen to you.” They’re sitting in Hux’s quarters, curled on either end of the couch. And Hux leans forward, stares into dark eyes that are full of wonder._

_“What makes you think I’d want to talk to anyone else?” Eight Seven shrugs in response._

_“I’m nobody. Just a stormtrooper. You’re… you’re The General.” Hux sighs. Weeks. Weeks they’ve been spending every off duty hour together, and still, still Eight Seven doesn’t see. Hux edges closer to him, so close they’re almost touching._

_“You’re not nobody, Eight Seven. You’re smart, and thoughtful, and… And with you I can just…” He swallows hard around the words. “With you I can just be.”_

_***_

_The room is cold. And Hux wakes slowly, burrows deeper under the covers. A heavy hand tugs at his waist, pulls him closer. Soft lips nuzzle at the back of his neck, tease the short hairs at the base of his skull._

_“Not time to get up yet, Hux. Not yet.” Hux laughs, a breathy whispers as a mouth sucks kisses into the back of his neck._

_“The chrono went off ten minutes ago, darling. It’s time.” He doesn’t pull away though. No, he relaxes into the tight grip, calms as it loosens and as he’s rolled onto his back. And then lips press to his forehead. He moans. Huge hands stroke down his sides, cup his ass as Eight Seven leans over him._

_“Still want to get up, Hux?” He shakes his head. No, no he’s content to stay right here. With FN-2187’s hands wrapped around his ass, with that lovely dick pressed tight against him. Eight Seven moves his hands upward to stroke over Hux’s chest, his belly, his throat. Hux cracks his eyes back open to stare into brown pools, dark and needy._

_“Touch me?” He whispers, wanting, needing. Eight Seven smiles. Bends down and sucks Hux’s bottom lip between his own. The kiss lasts for what might be hours, on and on in a warm haze that Hux never wants to leave behind. Finally, finally though, Eight Seven moves away to fist their cocks together, both half hard and aching._

_“Beautiful, Hux. You’re beautiful like this.”_

_***_

_“Phasma tells me you’re going away for a while?” They’re sitting on the couch in Hux’s quarters once again. Eight Seven has stripped down to his thin undershirt and loose pants, black against the darkness of his skin._

_“Yeah. She’s asked me to join the mission to Polis Massa.” Hux nods. He’s proud of Eight Seven, far more than he really should be. The other man is exceptional. Test scores off the chart and a knack for leadership that cannot be taught, must be inborn._

_“Supposed to be diplomatic though. No fighting.” Eight Seven looks almost disappointed and Hux laughs. Eight Seven’s never been in a real firefight. For all his potential, he’s been here on Finalizer, or on Starkiller, or on countless other diplomatic missions, his soft voice and gentle manner wheedling concessions and information out where more highly placed members of the First Order have failed._

_“You’ll get a chance, darling. I promise.” Hux strokes a hand down the side of Eight Seven’s face. “We need you on this one though. You might be able to get out something from the guards while Phasma deals with the bureaucrats.” Eight Seven nods resignedly. He knows what he’s good at, just as well as Hux does._

_“Will you miss me while I’m gone, Hux?” Hux scoffs, but his heart clenches a little at the words. He slides closer, almost in Eight Seven’s lap now. Whispers his answer into Eight Seven’s neck._

_“Why should I do that, you insufferable man? Why would I miss - ” he has to cut off as Eight Seven manhandles him around, seats Hux to straddle his thick thighs. Kisses Hux hard and clamps possessive hands down on Hux ass._

_“You will, my General. You will miss me.”_

_***_

_Hux is facedown on the bed, panting into his pillows. It seems like they’ve been at this forever, Eight Seven opening him up so slow. A single finger teases his rim, another slips inside to stroke and press and feel, and Hux whines. He wants more, wants everything._

_“Do you need something, my General?” Eight Seven’s laugh is warm and welcoming, like a hot bath at the end of this horrible, trying week. Hux moans, too strung out to form a coherent answer. A second finger slips back inside him and he whimpers appreciatively. They’re twisting, sloppy wet, and Hux feels his cock jerk as Eight Seven slips the third inside again._

_“More. More please.” He gasps out, rocking backward. “Darling. Wonderful, beautiful. More.” He can feel a shudder through Eight Seven’s body, a tremble of need. And then the fingers vanish from his ass._

_“I’m gonna fuck you now, ok, Hux? Is that alright?” Hux nods, then babbles his assent in arcing spirals of words. Eight Seven presses forward, cock hard and thick as it slides inside Hux. And then he’s full up with this perfect man._

_“Darling. Oh fuck. Please. Move. Just fuck me and don’t let go. Don’t let go.” The slide of their hips is intoxicating. Hux can’t think. Can only feel the sparking pleasure as Eight Seven’s dick presses hard to his prostate. As Eight Seven reaches around to stroke his dick._

_“Hux…” Eight Seven groans at his back. “Fuck. Hux, I love this. Fuck…” And Hux hears what he doesn’t say. Hears it clear as a bell because it rings out in his own thoughts like the thump of his heart._

I love you.

***

Most of the time when Finn wakes up, he finds himself reaching for a body that isn’t there. Trying to cradle someone to him, to hold and to comfort. Wanting to nuzzle into soft hair, to kiss sleep muddled eyelids and sneak a bite from thin pale lips. 

It takes a few moments for him to remember. To remember that he can’t have that anymore. To remember where he is and what he did. To accept. 

And as he goes about his day, he can start to forget. Can throw himself into his work for the Resistance, make reports and draw diagrams, explain endless details of the Stormtrooper program. 

Except… Sometimes, sometimes something happens. 

The whiff of smoke he catches when he’s out at the hangars, two pilots smoking, and he knows that smell. Knows it like it’s part of him, and it makes him ache. Darling, and a hand stroking his face. The taste of tabac on lips that part under his, and the smell of it in bright red hair. 

Sometimes he catches a minute of a political broadcast, and the voice that echos through his dreams is suddenly real. Hux, ranting and blustering, but still powerful, still unbroken. And he steals one of the recordings, filches it after Organa and the intelligence team and whoever else have already watched it. He plays it late at night, hand around his cock, eyes fixed on the projection. If he pretends, just a little, he can imagine that Hux is there, practicing a speech, rehearsing in front of him. 

He can pretend that everything is alright. 

Can pretend that when he wakes, finds that Hux isn’t there, he doesn’t feel tears leak down his face. Can pretend that he’ll roll over to feel soft hands on his back, to gather Hux against him. 

In those moments he can pretend that he has not torn his own heart in two. 

That he is not broken.

**Author's Note:**

> I cried while writing this. Just so you know. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr and cry with me [saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
